


Hold a match to my skin and watch the fire burn

by Yukichouji



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Jughead Jones, Bros who fuck together stay together, Cheryl knows about witchcraft, Crack Treated Seriously, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/F, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Magical Traps, No smut for Choni in this I'm sorry, Overstimulation, Protective Sweet Pea (Riverdale), Snark, Sweet Pea/Fangs hinted at, Top Sweet Pea (Riverdale), Virgin Traps, Witchcraft, With A Twist, top Fangs Fogarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23414098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukichouji/pseuds/Yukichouji
Summary: “I’m pretty sure we just walked past that tree over there for the third time in the last twenty minutes.” Toni says dryly, one eyebrow raised as if in challenge as she crosses her arms over her stomach.“What?” Jughead glances in the direction she just indicated, but all he can see is the forest as it is, nothing familiar that jumps out at him in particular. Maybe she’s right, maybe she’s not, it’s hard to say. “Are you sure?” He asks, frowning a little.“Yes, I’m sure.” Toni rolls her eyes at him and sighs deeply, then points at the previously mentioned tree again. “That branch formation is very distinctive. Besides, the crow on the middle branch over there hasn’t moved an inch since we first passed it. I’ll admit that’s a little strange, but it’s a pretty good eye catcher.”ORThe gang ventures where they shouldn't and Jughead accidentally gets himself stuck in a magical trap. Fangs and Sweet Pea are there to help solve the problem, even if Jughead is less than happy about any of it.
Relationships: Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Fangs Fogarty/Jughead Jones, Fangs Fogarty/Jughead Jones/Sweet Pea, Jughead Jones/Sweet Pea
Comments: 20
Kudos: 127





	Hold a match to my skin and watch the fire burn

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure, if this counts as an AU, since Riverdale and Sabrina are set in the same universe. Cheryl knowing about witchcraft and what's going on in Greendale is definitely AU, though. 
> 
> Note the 'crack treated seriously' tag, please. This is very much just an excuse to write self-indulgent smut, because I really wanted Fangs and Sweet Pea to double team a poor, unsuspecting Jughead. And here we are now. I hope you enjoy ~

~*~*~

“I’m pretty sure we just walked past that tree over there for the third time in the last twenty minutes.” Toni says dryly, one eyebrow raised as if in challenge as she crosses her arms over her stomach.

“What?” Jughead glances in the direction she just indicated, but all he can see is the forest as it is, nothing familiar that jumps out at him in particular. Maybe she’s right, maybe she’s not, it’s hard to say. “Are you sure?” He asks, frowning a little.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Toni rolls her eyes at him and sighs deeply, then points at the previously mentioned tree again. “That branch formation is very distinctive. Besides, the crow on the middle branch over there hasn’t moved an inch since we first passed it. I’ll admit that’s a little strange, but it’s a pretty good eye catcher.”

Jughead furrows his brows as he follows the line of her finger and, yep, that’s definitely a crow. Staring back at them with its ominous, beady little eyes as though watching them purposefully and Jughead can’t help the unpleasant shiver it sends down his spine. The crow suddenly moves, startling all of them as it opens its pearly beak and caws out what sounds like a series of hoarse laughter, then hops off of the branch and takes flight. Only to come back and circle above their heads, high up above the tree tops, a small black smudge against the slightly overcast sky, it’s cawing still reaching them, if only faintly.

“Look, snakeboy, when I agreed to this whole team building exercise thing, I was kind of working under the assumption that you knew what you were doing.” Cheryl chimes in from next to Toni, seemingly immune to the weird mood, the red of her leather jacket flashing brightly in the early afternoon light. “But since that’s clearly not the case, maybe someone else should take over. Like, say, _me_.”

“We’re not lost!” Jughead protests, then, a little less vehemently tags on. “I’m just not 100% sure exactly where we are right now...”

“That’s kind of the definition of ‘lost’.” Fangs provides helpfully, Sweet Pea nodding along to show his solidarity. Great.

“Maybe we should have brought a map, after all.” Sweet Pea offers helpfully and Jughead closes his eyes for a moment and brings a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, trying unsuccessfully to stave off the building headache.

He’d really thought this was a good idea, when he’d come up with it. Take his friends for a hike, disguise it as a team building effort, a way to work towards bringing the Serpents and the Pretty Poisons closer again, starting with their respective leaders. He’d spent hours pouring over different maps to pick out a fitting route, somewhere they hadn’t been yet, to keep it interesting. And he’d found what looked like a really scenic trail through the woods just along the border to Greendale. It’d seemed perfect.

Head out after a shared dinner at Pop’s, enjoy a couple hours of fresh air and each other’s company, be back in time for dinner. No big deal at all. He’d just thought that it would do all of them a lot of good to get away for a bit, spend some quality time together, after all of the madness of the past school year. It’d taken a pretty big toll on everyone. But now that things had calmed down a little again, it was high time for healing.

The trip had started out well enough, too, Jughead had been able to see the others gradually begin to relax, let loose a little, even if they were trying to cover it up. But the ribbing and the good-natured joking, it was all there and seeing it unfold around him had made something tight in Jughead’s chest finally begin to unfurl, that ever present worry fading beneath the shade of the treas with the scent of the forest fresh in their lungs.

It would all have gone according to plan, too, if Jughead hadn’t spontaneously decided to venture off of the path and deviate form his originally planned route. He can’t even really explain _why_ he did it. It’d just been a feeling, a strange sort of pull like an invisible hook in his belly making him head left instead of right at that strange looking boulder formation, crossing the border into Greendale, pushing on even as the woods grew strange around them and he’d lost all sense of orientation. That inexplicable feeling urging him on.

“We’re _fine_.” Jughead insists, his eyes drawn back to the wildlife trail he’d been leading them along. He’s not sure _how_ , but he knows that they’re getting closer. Maybe he should take a moment to wonder ‘closer to what?’, but that thought doesn’t even cross his mind. All he can think about is that they need to keep going, _he_ needs to keep going.

“Uhu.” Cheryl hums, sounding less than pleased and it looks like she’s got more to say, too, but that’s when Jughead finally sees it. A tiny clearing up ahead and he can’t explain why, bu he just knows that’s where he needs be, so he quickens his step and takes the lead again, leaving the others no choice but to follow, regardless of their complaints.

Stepping into the clearing feels like stepping through an invisible barrier of some sort, there’s a strange zing in the air, a shift that makes his stomach drop out a little. And then, as soon as Jughead’s set his second foot down past the treeline, a shock of electricity surges up through his body, intense and painful and a second later, the world just goes dark.

~*~*~

Jughead wakes with a groan, batting clumsily at the hand patting his cheek and he opens his eyes only to see the concerned faces of his friends looking down at him. Marking a circle against the gray sky like a ring of weirdly shaped treetops.

“Dude.” Fangs says, looking kind of shaken. “What the fuck?”

Jughead blinks a couple of times to try and clear the fog from his head, then struggles to heave himself into a sitting position, Sweet Pea’s hand landing on his back to help him along and keep him steady once he’s managed. His whole body feels tingly and weird and Sweet Pea’s hand is a strangely intense presence against his spine, heat seeping through his t-shirt and making his skin pebble with goose flesh.

“What happened?” Jughead tries, his voice a little rough as he brings up a hand to wash it over his face, hoping to wake himself up properly like that. It only works partially.

“Shouldn’t _you_ be the one telling _us_ that?” Cheryl gripes. Worry has a tendency to make her irritable, Jughead knows.

“You stepped out into the clearing and then just dropped like a sack of wet potatoes. It was really strange.” Toni offers, a concerned frown on her face. “Are you OK? How do you feel?”

“Huh.” Jughead gives his head a quick, annoyed shake to dispel the lingering weirdness, but it doesn’t work and he makes a frustrated sound. “I don’t know. Something’s… off. But I can’t really – I don’t know what it is.”

Cheryl narrows her eyes at him, looking thoughtful, but it’s Sweet Pea, who finally takes action. “We should get you out of here.” He says and, before Jughead has the chance to protest, wedges his hands under Jughead’s arms and pulls him to his feet like it’s nothing, Jughead giving a surprised squawk and scrambling to get his legs sorted.

“Jeez, warn a guy, will you?” Jughead huffs and bends over a little, hands resting on his knees and head hanging, until the sudden rush of dizziness dissipates enough for the world to stop spinning around him.

“You really don’t look so good, man.” Fangs murmurs, leaning into Jughead’s field of vision with a concerned frown on his face. “You need a hand or something?”

“No. Nope, I’m good.” Jughead forces himself to say, one hand held up to keep Fangs at bay. He straightens up with a groan and tries to ignore the way Sweet Pea’s hovering at his side, like he thinks Jughead might keel over again at any second. This isn’t embarrassing at all or anything, Jughead thinks, his skin crawling but unable to say why exactly. Maybe getting away from this weird place _is_ a good idea. It’s honestly giving him the creeps, an inexplicable sense of foreboding lingering insistently at the back of his mind. “We should just head back. I think I remember how to get to the original trail now.”

“How very convenient.” Cheryl chirps and steps off of the clearing and back into the woods with Toni following suit. “You couldn’t have had that epiphany about half an hour ago, no?”

Jughead just shoots her a withering look and starts moving, Fangs and Sweet Pea at his sides. The three of them reach the treeline at the same time and while Fangs and Sweet Pea cross that border without so much as a hitch in their step, when Jughead tries to do the same, he just – can’t. It’s like walking into an invisible wall and he gives a startled ‘ompf’, stumbles back and lands right on his ass in the calf-high grass of the clearing.

“Ow, ow, ow.” Jughead curses under his breath, his hands coming up to shield his throbbing nose. What the fuck _was_ that?

When he looks up again, the pain in his nose subsiding somewhat, the others have turned to look back at him, their expressions ranging from annoyed to confused. Jughead heaves himself to his feet and approaches the treeline again, more careful this time. Once he’s there, he reaches out a hand and as soon as the tips of his fingers come close to the bark of a tree a weird, electric zing tingles through them and it’s like the air has solidified right in front of him. He flattens his palm against the barrier, frowning, then raises his other hand to do the same. Regardless of where he tries, it’s like pushing against a smooth, completely transparent wall of rubber, the tiniest bit of give and then nothing.

“What the Hell, dude?” Fangs blurts out, a look on his face like he’s beginning to think Jughead might have lost his mind or something. And Jughead’s not entirely sure Fangs is wrong either.

“I – I don’t know. How did – how did you get past this?” Jughead stutters out, the strange fog in his head keeping him from thinking more clearly and then he yanks his hands away with a hiss, when the tingling suddenly intensifies and it feels like he’s been shocked. Like touching a fucking electrical fence.

“How did we get past _what_?” Sweet Pea asks, a deep frown on his face, and steps back onto the clearing like it’s nothing. Exactly the way it _should_ be. He wraps a careful hand around Jughead’s elbow and then starts walking backwards off the clearing, pulling Jughead along with him.

But, as soon as Jughead reaches the treeline, it’s the same thing all over again, he abruptly runs into that invisible wall, unable to take another step as that charge starts to build all along his front and Sweet Pea’s hand slips off of his elbow, when he can’t pull Jughead into the trees with him. Jughead gasps and takes a hurried step back, before he can be shocked again, the air around him feeling thick and loaded.

“Oh, no.” Cheryl mutters and all eyes are suddenly drawn to her. She looks like she just had an epiphany of her own, but not exactly in a good way, her cherry-red lips pursed as she stabs at Jughead with her glare. “Please tell me you didn’t actually take us _into_ Greendale.”

“Uhm. I don’t –“ Jughead starts, feeling more than a little uncomfortable under her gaze and not entirely sure what Greendale has to do with anything. “I think we crossed the border into Greendale about twenty five ago?” He offers, sounding more uncertain, than he’d meant to.

Cheryl rolls her eyes dramatically and groans. “Great.” She says, a very much unamused tilt to her mouth, her fingernails, painted to match the bright red of her leather jacket, tapping a displeased rhythm onto her elbows where her arms are crossed in front of her chest. “Trust king emo to fuck things up this spectacularly. I’m afraid I might actually know what this is, or at least I have a strong suspicion. But I need to make a phone call first. You better hope I can get reception out here.”

With that, she digs her phone out of her pocket and holds it up towards the tree tops, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised critically. “It looks like serendipity is on your side, today. Don’t move while I’m gone.” Cheryl points a finger at Jughead and he raises his hands defensively. The way things are looking right now it’s not like he’s got much of a choice here. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a second.”

With that, she marches off, deeper into the woods until she’s mostly out of earshot, Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea watching her go with different stages of confusion displayed on their faces. “What the Hell is she talking about?” Fangs demands, his gaze shifting over to Toni, who just shrugs her shoulders irritably. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t the slightest.”

Tired of standing there like an idiot, Jughead drops back down into the grass, sitting cross-legged, one elbow coming to rest on one of his knees so that he can prop his cheek up with his palm. He should probably be a little more proactive about this, maybe try to feel his way along the outline of the clearing, see if that barrier is the same all around or, if he just needs to find a different spot to get out. But this whole thing is just too fucking weird for him, really, and that feeling that’s been settling in his bones ever since he woke up, that heaviness that makes his head feel drowsy and slow and the effort of moving entirely too much to bother with, holds him back. A strange sort of resignation spreading through him and making him much more docile than he’d normally be.

Besides, if Cheryl knows what the fuck is going on here, then it only makes sense to wait for her to come back and let them know how to solve this stupid problem. It takes a while, though, and Jughead can watch the others get more and more antsy, shifting their stances and glancing over to where Cheryl wandered off to, her voice droning on in the distance, though her words can’t be made out.

When she finally comes back to the clearing, her cellphone still up against her ear, everyone goes still and four pairs of eyes land on her expectantly. But she just ignores them, waves an impatient hand for Fangs to step out of her way. He scrambles to comply, frowning, and she moves to the very edge of the clearing, then crouches down and starts routing around in the grass, pushing it aside until she’s laid bare what looks like an ancient, withered stone about the size of her head.

Jughead squints and leans forward a little to try and get a closer look and he can make out a strange set of symbols carved into the stone’s surface, looking runic and old, a brownish coat of moss covering them and softening their edges. “Found it.” Cheryl exclaims and pulls her phone away form her ear to snap a picture of the rock, then wedges it back between her ear and her shoulder, getting up out of her crouch and moving further along the edge of the clearing. “I sent you a picture.”

She repeats the same procedure three more times, uncovering three more stones just like the first, placed in even distances of each other, marking off what Jughead realizes are the four cardinal points: North, East, South and West. Then Cheryl straightens up for the final time and just stands there listening to the person on the other end of the line for a bit, the surly look on her face growing more pronounced. “Of course it is.” She finally mutters and sighs, sounding exasperated. “Your assistance is greatly appreciated, dear. I owe you for this one. Remind me to take you out for a milkshake at Pop’s, if you ever make it to Riverdale. TTYS.”

With that, Cheryl ends the conversation, pockets her phone and slowly wanders back over to the rest of them, tossing her hair over her shoulder with what seems to be no small amount of irritation. “So?” Toni prompts, clearly as eager as the rest of them to find out what on earth is going on. Cheryl sighs again and leans in to give Toni a soft peck on the cheek. “Worry not, my love. There is a solution to this mess.” Then she glances over at Jughead, who’s still sitting in the grass and just waiting for things to start making sense again, her expression turning a little sarcastic. “Though I’m not sure how thrilled you’re going to be about it.”

“Well, enlighten us then.” Jughead murmurs, feeling a little defensive, like he’s the slow kid in class, the last one to get the joke that was made at his expense. This better be fucking good.

With a dramatic gesture, Cheryl sinks down to the mossy forest floor and takes a seat, raising an eyebrow at the others when they just stand there and stare at her. “This is going to take a moment, my rag-tag band of kindred spirits. Might as well get comfortable.” At her prompt, Toni shrugs and takes a seat next to her and Fangs and Sweet Pea exchange a look and then apparently decide to do the same. Once everyone is settled, like children at a camp fire with Cheryl the main source of entertainment, all eyes on her, she finally starts to elaborate.

“I’m afraid it looks like you –“ Cheryl begins, the tip of her finger drawing a flourish through the air and then coming to a still pointing toward Jughead. “– have somehow managed to set off a trap. One that’s been sitting here waiting to snag a poor, innocent soul for a while. People don’t come to this neck of the woods, so to speak, very often, it would appear. Lucky for you, I happen to know someone, who knows someone, who was actually able to help identify the nature of this particular trap.”

“So, what the Hell is it?” Fangs blurts out, clearly on edge as he fidgets on his seat of moss, and Sweet Pea raises an inquisitive eyebrow to further make Fangs’ point.

“Witchcraft, my dear, impatient boy.” Cheryl finally drops the proverbial bomb and then pauses for a moment, giving everyone a chance to digest her words.

“ _Witchcraft._ ” Sweet Pea repeats, giving Cheryl a look like he’s not entirely sure whether she’s fucking with him or whether she’s _actually_ gone and lost it. “ _That’s_ what your friend came up with?”

“Babe, are you sure about this?” Toni tries, clearly intent on being more diplomatic, but still obviously skeptical.

“Well, –“ Cheryl gestures vaguely in Jughead’s direction, very much not impressed by everyone’s reaction. “I know it’s a little much to digest, so I won’t blame you for having doubts, my dear TT, but if any of you have a better explanation, I’m all ears.”

Jughead just sits there and watches the whole thing unfold, trying to sort through what he’s feeling. His first instinct is skepticism that quickly morphs into outright denial. Because honestly? Witchcraft? That’s a pretty hard sell on any day. And he’s so used to dealing with stuff that looks like it’s one improbable thing and then just turns out to have a very mundane, if somewhat complicated, explanation. Even with the way he comes up short now, on any sort of reasonable explanation for this _current_ clusterfuck (aside form maybe spontaneous mass hypnosis, which, at this point he’s not even ready to rule out completely).

This whole thing would be a lot easier, too, if he didn’t feel so fucking muddled, like his thoughts are moving through molasses and the easiest thing he can do is just keep his head empty entirely, no thoughts, just those weird, tingly, unsettling sensations that this place conjures up in him. It’s a little like the last time he had a really bad cold and ended up with a fever, that same stuffiness trying to take over, uncomfortable warmth crawling underneath his skin.

When no-one speaks up, Cheryl plows on resolutely. “That’s what I thought.” She gripes, her head tilted at an angle that makes her look proud and regal. “Now, this particular trap seems to be one that feeds off of sexual energy, i.e. it’s something those in the know like to call a ‘virgin trap’.”

OK, so that definitely gets Jughead’s attention. “ _Excuse me_?” He sputters, face going red as he tries to process her words, getting hung up more on the insinuation than the actual improbability of her claim. “I’m _not_ a virgin.”

“Calm down, beanie boy.” Cheryl just rolls her eyes at his outburst, paying his indignation little to no mind at all. “Like I said, this trap is pretty old and if you leave them sit for too long, they start to get a little _creative_. Maybe you would have had to be a full virgin to activate it, back when it’d just been set. But, since you’re the only one who got snagged now, it likely just means that there’s some act or other you haven’t partaken in yet that the rest of us have. One that would offer enough ‘sexual energy’, if committed, to allow the trap to fulfill its purpose. We just need to figure out what exactly that ‘act’ is.”

“Wait.” Sweet Pea interjects, his eyes narrowing at Cheryl and his brows furrowed doubtfully. “So what you’re saying is that to get Jones off of that stupid clearing, he has to live out some kink he hasn’t tried, yet? I mean, I’m sure there’s a long list to choose from there, but what the fuck?”

“Hey!” Jughead blurts out at the underhanded insult, face growing even hotter until he actually feels feverish with it, but he’s simply ignored and he’s left quietly fuming while the others continue their outrageous conversation.

“ _Again –_ ” Cheryl says, her eyebrow twitching dangerously, a clear sign that she’s about to lose her patience. “If anyone has a better solution to offer, they’re welcome to speak up.”

She’s met with a helpless sort of silence and she gives everyone a look that somehow manages to perfectly convey ‘see? now kindly shut up so that we can get on with this and don’t fucking doubt me again, you fools’. It’s kind of impressive, actually. “Now, as I _said_ , and I really do hate having to repeat myself, we just need to figure out, what little perversity my darling cousin’s ex-lover is still missing out on, so that we can get the Hell out of here already. Because I’ve honestly had about enough of this trip. If we _ever_ do anything like this again, _I’m_ organizing it or you can count TT and I out.”

Cheryl pats Toni’s thigh reassuringly and Toni wraps her fingers around Cheryl’s hand carefully, giving her a worried look. “Let’s start with something easy, shall we?” Cheryl goes on. “Who here has ever been with a woman, in any sort of way you so please, may raise their hand.”

Not surprisingly, all five hands come up and Cheryl just shrugs and continues. “As was to be expected. A man, then?”

Four hands come up and, when Jughead hesitates, all eyes land on him expectantly. He already knew that Fangs is bi but he’s a little surprised about Sweet Pea, to be honest and he’d definitely get stuck on that for a bit, if he weren’t so busy dying of embarrassment. “That, uh, that depends whether or not making out with Archie in 7th grade because we were curious and then deciding to never ever talk about it again because of how awkward it turned out to be, counts or not.” Jughead mutters without looking at anyone, pretty sure his face has taken on the tone of a ripe tomato from the way it feels. What on earth are they even doing here?

“Oh, you sweet, innocent _babe_. Yes, that counts.” Cheryl says and Jughead tries really hard not to let the condescension in her words get to him. He only succeeds partially, a displeased frown pulling at his features. “Alright, then. Let’s go into the specifics, shall we? We should cover the basics first, I suppose. Received oral sex?”

A complete show of hands.

“Performed oral sex?”

Again, all hands up.

“Penetrative sex on the giving end?”

Jughead raises his hand with the others, his mortification steadily growing and he’s about ready for the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole, thanks. This has got to be one of the most demeaning things he’s ever gone through and he has a history of being bullied that’s pretty much as long as his history of attending school, so yeah.

“Penetrative sex on the receiving end?” Cheryl chirps, blasé and not in the least bit bothered.

And that’s finally the point where Jughead’s hand stays down for good. He has the vague hope, that he won’t be the only one, but, to his surprise, he actually is. Jughead’s gaze darts over to Sweet Pea, hand raised with the others and, seeing him looking, Sweet Pea just shrugs one shoulder, very much unconcerned. Right, that’s – Jughead can totally deal with the imagery _that_ calls to mind. He’s a little relieved he’s reached a point where he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to blush any harder, because that would definitely have done the trick.

“Well, well, well.” Cheryl hums, breaking Jughead’s train of thought and pulling his attention back to her. “I didn’t think it would be this easy, to be honest. I’d always ‘pegged’ you and my sweet, dear cousin for _that_ sort of couple. I guess even I can be wrong on occasion.”

“It’s not – I –“ Jughead splutters helplessly. “She wanted to try, but I – I felt a bit apprehensive about the idea and then we broke up and we just never – Oh, my God, I have no idea why I’m even telling you that.” Jughead groans and hides his face in his hands, desperately trying to pretend like this isn’t happening and failing miserably.

“Oh, child, don’t fret.” Cheryl waves him off dismissively and shruggs. “Be happy we’ve found the solution. All you need to do to get out of the trap is have someone pop your anal cherry and we can all move on with things. I’m afraid Toni and I are out. I didn’t really think this would end up being a ‘bring your strap-on’ sort of ‘team building exercise’, I’m afraid, so we’re ill prepared. But I’m sure one of your sturdy Serpent underlings here will be more than happy to do the deed.” She gestures at Sweet Pea and Fangs, who first look at Cheryl, then at each other, seeming more than a little dubious about the whole thing.

“OK, _wait_!” Jughead tries desperately, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as he frantically tries to think through the fog in his head. “If this actually is a magical trap, which I’m still not entirely sold on by the way, wouldn’t it be kind of dangerous to, uhm, ‘give it what it wants’, if we have no idea what the purpose of said trap is? I mean, what’s it going to do with that ‘energy’ you’re talking about?”

“That is an unexpectedly good point.” Cheryl chirps, not perturbed at all. “The thing with these sorts of traps, especially ones this old, is that there’s really no way to tell. I’d say your best bet is to be prepared to haul your newly inaugurated behind out of here as quickly as you can once things are done with.”

“Aren’t you at all worried about unleashing some potential ancient evil upon the unsuspecting citizens of Greendale or something, babe?” Toni throws in, but Cheryl just sighs and pats her thigh again.

“Believe me, ma chérie. The citizens of Greendale are neither unsuspecting nor ill-prepared to deal with the likes. You’d be surprised.”

“I have so many questions right now.” Toni deadpans, not really seeming all that reassured, and Fangs just looks at her, eyebrows raised, and mutters “Get in line.”.

“Oh, for the love of God.” Cheryl says, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Would you like to sit here for another two hours while I elaborate on my no doubt fairly fascinating family history until we get to the point where I happen to have a handful of distant relatives in Greendale – a town that has been infested with witches since the olden days, by the way – don’t give me that look now – or would you rather bench that until later and get on with the solving of this particular problem already?”

“ I guess you’ve got a point...” Fangs concedes carefully, one hand held up in a placating manner and he exchanges another careful look with Sweet Pea, who just frowns lightly and shrugs his shoulders. Now more than ever Jughead wishes he had a way to translate this wordless way of communicating that Fangs and Sweet Pea have sometimes, an understanding born of years and years of knowing each other, of being best friends. A little like it used to be between Archie, Betty and Jughead, before everything just kind of fell apart.

Cheryl nods regally, as if to say ‘of course I have, you dull person’, and Toni just sighs and shakes her head once, then seems to gather herself, straightening up a little. “Maybe we should give the guys a little space so that they can figure this thing out.” She says, glancing at Cheryl, who frowns at her for a moment, looking disappointed, but then folds under Toni’s gaze.

“Oh, fine.” Cheryl grumbles and  accepts Toni’ s help  in getting to her feet. “We  _ will _ stay within earshot however, just in case. And do try not to dillydally. I’m already more than bored of this place and I would very much like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

W ith that, Toni throwing one last worried look over her shoulder at the three of them, Cheryl lets Toni lead her away, hands firmly clasped. Which just leaves Fangs, Sweet Pea and Jughead sitting there, an awkward, fidgety silence falling over them as they watch Cheryl and Toni retreat. 

“ So.” Fangs says, once the girls have disappeared behind a particularly wide tree trunk, clearin g his throat and exchanging another one of those _ looks _ with Sweet Pea that makes Jughead shift nervously in his seat, feeling fluttery and on edge. “ How do we do this exactly?”

S weet Pea pulls a face and lifts an eyebrow. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?” The suggestion makes Fangs adapt a contemplative look, like he’s actually considering it and Jughead can’t help his outburst of indignation.

“Excuse me?” He sputters, his voice coming out a little higher than he’d have liked. “Does anyone care about what  _ I _ think?”

To his  consternation , Fangs and Sweet Pea just ignore him, continuing their half-conversation unperturbed by Jughead’s objection. “Or.” Sweet Pea says like it’s an offer, his eyes on Fangs as he tilts his head to the side a little  and the hint of a grin plays around his lips . “Or.” Fangs repeats a little more decisively, a n echoing grin forming like he’s very much on board with whatever it is Sweet Pea’s insinuating and Jughead is left to look back and forth between the two of them in disgruntled confusion.

When Fangs and Sweet Pea get to their feet at the same time and turn to look at Jughead, intent clear on their faces, Jughead scrambles up as well and starts to back away from them, towards the other side of the clearing. They step into the circle after him, something predatory about the way that they move, the way that they refuse to acknowledge any of Jughead’s protests and Jughead can feel his head begin to swim a little, dizziness taking over as his throat pulls tight. He keeps backing up until suddenly, right as he reaches the center of the clearing, it feels as though the ground has turned magnetic and his feet are made of iron and he cannot lift them to take another step no matter how much he tries.

“ Don’t worry,  _ boss _ .” Sweet Pea murmurs, his eyes dark as he steps up close to Jughead, effectively crowding him and forcing Jughead to tilt his head up in order to be able to meet his gaze. “We’ll play nice.”

Fangs hums his agreement and Jughead’s pulse kicks up another notch, at how close Fangs’ voice is to his ear, at the way he can feel the heat radiating off of Fangs’ body all along his back, even through the fabric of his t-shirt. Not touching yet, but so fucking close. Reflexively, Jughead brings his hands up and presses them against Sweet Pea’s chest in a vain effort to keep him from moving even closer, to keep him at bay somehow, but Sweet Pea just gives a crooked half-smile and bridges the gap between them anyway, as though Jughead’s resistance means nothing to him. Effectively trapping Jughead’s arms between their chests, and then Fangs makes the same move and suddenly he’s pressed up against Jughead from his shoulders to his knees and Jughead feels utterly trapped.

A rabbit stuck between the sharp-toothed jaws of a wolf. “Guys, wait!” Jughead tries, but his words get lost, when Sweet Pea leans down to press his lips against Jughead’s, Sweet Pea’s hands coming up to cradle Jughead’s jaw, to hold him still while Sweet Pea takes what he wants. The touch, the feeling of skin on skin, is electric, charged with potential intense enough to make his mouth tingle with it and Jughead whines into the kiss, lost to the sudden spike of the feverish heat that’s been pumping through his blood all the while.

Fangs leans in and starts to plant wet kisses along the side of Jughead’s neck, his hands moving to Jughead’s hips and snaking underneath the hem of his t-shirt until they’re splayed out against Jughead’s sides, wide and hot like a brand. Jughead feels himself shudder and he whimpers at the feeling, the fizzling quality of the air around them and the intensity of the shivery heat that starts to pool low in his belly. His hands tighten into fists around the fabric of Sweet Pea’s shirt, when Sweet Pea’s tongue glides along Jughead’s bottom lip, wet and smooth and Jughead gasps against Sweet Pea’s mouth, all remaining traces of thought chased from his mind like sheets of paper caught in a storm, leaving behind only sensation to drown in.

Only the way Fangs’ hands feel, when they circle onto his stomach and then move slowly, purposefully up, taking the hem of Jughead’s t-shirt with them. Or Sweet Pea, when he uses his thumbs on Jughead’s jaw to guide Jughead’s mouth open wider so that Sweet Pea can fuck his tongue past Jughead’s lips, confident and demanding. And all Jughead can do is moan and squirm helplessly between the two of them, his grip on Sweet Pea’s shirt turning white-knuckled as his own tongue darts forward to welcome Sweet Pea’s, slick-hot salt and coffee and the faintest traces of mint.

Jughead feels dizzy and disoriented when Sweet Pea pulls back and breaks the kiss, mindlessly tries to follow Sweet Pea’s mouth, but Sweet Pea stops him, his hands sliding down Jughead’s throat in a way that makes him shiver all over, palms so big and wide it would be nothing for him to wrap them around Jughead’s neck and just squeeze. And Jughead is panting, desperate for air that feels too thick in his lungs as Sweet Pea closes his fingers around Jughead’s hands and pries them away from Sweet Pea’s shirt. Takes hold of Jughead’s wrists and makes him lift his arms, so that Fangs can pull his t-shirt over his head and off, his beanie getting caught in the neckline and falling to the grass with it.

His fringe tumbling across his forehead like a messy curtain, Jughead whines and reaches for Sweet Pea, pulls him down into another hungry kiss. The feeling of Sweet Pea’s shirt against his naked chest, Fangs’ clothed form pressed up along Jughead’s bare back, is strange and fluttery and his stomach feels tingly and unsettled with it, but he just ignores that. Focuses instead on Sweet Pea’s tongue in his mouth, Sweet Pea’s hands as they slip into his hair and make him groan at how good it feels. Fangs lips as they attach themselves to the place where Jughead’s neck meets his shoulder and begin to suck a bruise into the skin, Fangs’ hands as they splay out over his chest, fingers brushing Jughead’s perked nipples and sending an electric zing down his spine, making him arch into the touch.

He can feel the hard line of Fangs’ dick press against his ass through two layers of jeans and Sweet Pea’s answering hardness rub up against his belly, their panting breaths gusting hotly across his skin, making it pebble into goose flesh in its wake, and Jughead himself strains against the rough line of his zipper uncomfortably. His dick aching and throbbing with arousal just from this, the electric sizzle of it spreading through his body in a tingling wave, down to his toes and into the tips of his fingers. If he’d had even the slightest bit of sense left, he’d know that this isn’t normal, that this is much too strange to be anything even close, but as it is, all he can do is cling to Sweet Pea and try to ride out the sensations that threaten to overtake him and leave him utterly helpless and lost.

Fangs’ hands slide back down across Jughead’s stomach, muscles fluttering under his touch, heated and ticklish, and land on the buckle of Jughead’s belt. Nimble fingers making short work of it and then doing the same with the button and zipper of Jughead’s jeans. Jughead moans into the kiss, Sweet Pea swallowing up the sound effortlessly, when Fangs hooks his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers and pulls them both down Jughead’s hips, his legs, roughly until they tangle around Jughead’s ankles, where his boots are in the way. The loss of Fangs’ body against his back, cool air rushing in, makes Jughead shudder and press closer to Sweet Pea, who wraps his arms around Jughead in response and holds him tight, as Fangs crouches down and impatiently wrestles Jughead’s boots off of his feet together with his socks. First one, then the other, Jughead’s jeans following after.

And then he’s standing there naked, Fangs moving back in and rolling his hips into Jughead’s bare ass, the denim covering his erection rough against Jughead’s skin, and shoving Jughead forward against Sweet Pea, Jughead’s finally freed dick rubbing hard and leaking against the strong line of Sweet Pea’s thigh. Jughead moans and gasps again, when one of Sweet Pea’s hands finds its way down to his ass and squeezing once, before sliding along the back of his thigh, lifting it up until Jughead’s knee is pressed against Sweet Pea’s side.

Jughead is completely unbalanced like this and he clings desperately to Sweet Pea, who’s hands on him are what feels like the only thing holding Jughead steady as Sweet Pea undulates his hips into Jughead’s. Jughead’s throbbing dick rubbing against the denim of Sweet Pea’s jeans, the pressure and the roughness of the material almost too much sensation, Sweet Pea’s dick a rigid line against Jughead’s stomach. And he’s so exposed like this, the feeling of it making his knees weak and shaky and his blood rush loudly in his ears, the hot flush on his face climbing down his neck and to his chest where it spreads.

Fangs’ palm snakes around Jughead’s neck and slides up his throat, the pressure on his Adam’s apple making him groan. And then Fangs’ fingers worm their way in between Jughead’s and Sweet Pea’s lips, making Sweet Pea move to the side, planting wet kisses along Jughead’s cheek and down to the juncture of his jaw to the soft, ticklish spot just beneath his ear. Only for Fangs’ fingers to slide over Jughead’s kiss-swollen bottom lip and into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, salt and earth flooding his senses. The rough pads coax Jughead’s tongue into twisting and twirling around the digits, coating them with saliva, the feeling of it obscene as spit slides wetly down his chin.

Fangs’ hand moves away and leaves Jughead’s gasping, feeling faint with how hot he is, his dick so hard it aches and he clings to Sweet Pea’s shoulders, whines and rubs his hips up against Sweet Pea’s thigh harder, but it doesn’t make it any better. He feels so lost, the world spinning around him and Fangs and Sweet Pea the only solid things left. Fangs’ fingers paint wet trails down Jughead’s side and then there on his ass, trailing down between his cheeks until they find the tightly furled ring of muscle there and some part of him flutters anxiously against the back of Jughead’s mind then. Something vague and faint inside himself that still remembers that he’s scared of this and he leans forward and buries his face against the crook of Sweet Pea’s neck, makes a soft sound of distress low in his throat.

Sweet Pea shushes him and the hand that’s not still holding Jughead’s thigh up comes around to the back of his neck, fingers carding through his hair and massaging across his scalp in an offer of comfort. Jughead feels weirdly small, pressed up against Sweet Pea, so much broader and taller than Jughead is, and Fangs’ wide chest against his narrower back and it makes his stomach feel tight and fluttery and he gasps as the tip of Fangs’ slicked up finger circles his rim.

Then Fangs starts to apply pressure and his finger slips past Jughead’s rim and into him almost too easily and Jughead doesn’t want this, but at the same time he desperately _does_ and he stifles a sob against the side of Sweet Pea’s neck at the way it feels. So torn between those two opposing emotions that it feels like the ground beneath him is throwing waves and Fangs’ finger inside of him is thick and invasive and so fucking good Jughead can’t help but bear down with his hips and push it deeper.

Jughead can hear Fangs groan against his shoulder and then he’s pushing in a second finger beside the first and the burn of the stretch makes Jughead whine, Sweet Pea’s hand stroking his hair soothingly, his fingers twitching against Jughead’s thigh and his chest working almost as hard as Jughead’s own. Then Fangs pushes his fingers deeper still, scissoring them apart and making Jughead’s hips jerk against Sweet Pea, his mouth dropping open on a choked off moan, because it’s too much, but fuck, fuck, fuck, he wants _more_. He needs to come so badly, the pressure that’s building up low in his belly so intense it burns right through him, but for some reason he just can’t and it only keeps getting worse.

Sweet Pea tilts Jughead’s face up, so that he can kiss him again, heated and hungry, at the same time as Fangs pulls out his fingers, leaving Jughead feeling empty and bereft in a way that makes his stomach clench painfully. And then there’s the sound of a belt buckle clicking, of a zipper being pulled down and Fangs spitting and the next thing Jughead knows the head of Fangs dick is crowding against his rim, slick and hot, and Jughead squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation, his stomach dropping out.

The pressure builds slowly and Jughead can’t decide whether he wants to lean into it or jerk away from it, so he just freezes in Sweet Pea’s arms instead, breathing hard and holding on for dear life. Then the tip of Fangs’ dick breaches him and Jughead’s mouth drops open against Sweet Pea’s lips as he loses his ability to focus on the kiss at all, his breath knocked out of him in a startled whoosh, only to leave him gasping for air a second later as Fangs keeps going. No pause to let Jughead adjust to the feel of him. The stretch is so intense Jughead’s can’t tell, if it’s pain or pleasure and the pressure of Fangs sliding into him, filling him up in a way that’s completely foreign to him, it has his head spinning and his stomach clenching tightly.

For a moment that seems much too long there’s the panicky thought that it’s never going to end, that Fangs is just going to keep pushing in indefinitely, until Jughead’s body breaks under the strain, but then Fangs hips come flush with Jughead’s ass and all Jughead can do is suck in shallow little breaths around the feeling. Sweet Pea swallowing up his pitiful, gasping moans in a kiss that’s turned sloppy and wet with the lack of Jughead’s ability to reciprocate, Sweet Pea’s hand stroking up and down Jughead’s side as Jughead’s grip turns white-knuckled and shaky on Sweet Pea’s shoulders.

Fangs groans next to Jughead’s ear, low and breathless and then starts to move, setting up a smooth, unrelenting rhythm that has Jughead moan helplessly on every thrust. He can feel Fangs moving inside of him, hot and thick and hard, can feel it low in his belly where the heat pools like a furnace and it’s such an alien sensation, so strange and unfamiliar. It makes him feel vulnerable and open, like he’s giving something away he wasn’t sure he wanted someone to take in the first place and he gets so lost in it he can barely focus on anything else, anything but the building charge that stings beneath his skin like an electrical current. The air around them singing with it, with the rising potential.

Fangs rubs against something inside of Jughead that has stars dancing in front of his eyes, that has him shudder and twitch and his lungs ache like he’s trapped underwater. And then that horrible pressure in his belly finally bursts and the wave of white-hot pleasure that washes over him as he comes is enough to make his whole body feel fuzzy and detached with it. Jughead sobs against Sweet Pea’s lips, Fangs going still inside of him, filling him up so completely as Jughead rides out his orgasm, the aftermath leaving him feeling faint and shaky like someone just sucked the life right out of him. It almost feels like there’s a ripple moving through the air of the clearing, starting at the center right where they are standing and then moving outward.

But Jughead realizes too late that it’s not over, yet, that Fangs is still hard inside of him and Sweet Pea’s erection is pressing firm and insistent against Jughead’s stomach through the confinement of his jeans and Jughead doesn’t know how to tell them that he can’t do this. That he feels like he can’t even hold himself up on his own, Sweet Pea bearing all his weight, that he feels wrung out and too sensitized, his chest on fire and the fabric of Fangs’ and Sweet Pea’s clothes like sandpaper against his skin.

Then, though, Fangs pulls out of him, leaving him feeling empty in an disconcerting way and Jughead whimpers, half relief, half loss. Sweet Pea lets go of Jughead’s thigh and Fangs steps away from Jughead’s sweat-slick back, taking his warmth with him and leaving Jughead shivering helplessly, unsteady on his feet. And after a moment, Sweet Pea’s arms wrapped around him, his world suddenly tilts and Jughead makes an embarrassing little sound in the back of his throat and clings to Sweet Pea desperately as Sweet Pea begins to lower him down.

Fangs is laying on his back on the grass, his hard, glistening dick jutting up through the open v of his jeans, a strained flush high on his cheeks, and he reaches out his arms to help Sweet Pea turn Jughead around and maneuver him until he’s straddling Fangs’ hips. Jughead tries to hold himself up, but his arms are weak and shaky and he ends up sinking gracelessly down onto Fangs’ chest, who just wraps his own arms around Jughead’s back to keep him there and Jughead presses his face into his shoulder in a futile attempt to hide himself away.

Fangs legs come up, bent at the knees, until his clothed thighs are pressed up against the backs of Jughead’s naked ones, one of Fangs hands reaching down until Jughead can feel Fangs’ dick press up against him again and then he’s pushing back in, making Jughead choke on his next breath. He can hear more rustling behind him, Fangs’ legs spreading wider and then Sweet Pea’s big hands run down Jughead’s sweaty back, making the muscles there flutter and twitch, until they land on Jughead’s ass. Sweet Pea squeezes once, making Jughead gasp, and then pulls the cheeks apart to expose him further as Fangs begins to thrust into him shallowly, more a smooth grind of his hips.

It feels like so much, Jughead’s rim tender and sore and his insides so overly sensitive every slide of Fangs’ dick sends static racing up Jughead’s spine and he reaches a shaky hand back to circle it around Sweet Pea’s wrist, grasping desperately for any sort of control over the situation. Glancing over his shoulder, Jughead sees Sweet Pea spit, a glob of his saliva landing wetly on Jughead’s rim, Fangs fucking it into him, an additional layer of slick that doesn’t make it better at all. Then Sweet Pea lets go of one of Jughead’s cheeks and reaches down to trace Jughead’s rim where it’s stretched wide around Fangs’ dick and the feeling of it has Jughead shudder and jerk, a whine stuck in his throat and his chest going tight.

Improbably, his own dick twitches and begins to fill again slowly, even though Jughead feels so wrung out he shouldn’t be able to get hard again at all. The additional sparks of pleasure seeping into the mix make his head spin and his vision blur and, when on Fangs’ next thrust one of Sweet Pea’s thick fingers slips in together with Fangs’ dick, Jughead’s hand tightens around Sweet Pea’s wrists like a vice and he makes a broken sound low in his chest. It shouldn’t be possible, not on his first time, but for some reason Jughead’s body just keeps opening up for them, to them, even when Sweet Pea lines up a second finger and pushes that in, too. Even when the stretch and the pressure get so intense it’s like Jughead’s entire being narrows down to that part of himself that’s being pried open and he feels like they’re taking him apart with how horribly frightening, with how fucking good it feels.

Sweet Pea scissors his fingers until Jughead chokes out a broken sob and Fangs gives a strained moan beneath him, his arms tightening around Jughead. As if he’s afraid Jughead will try to flee or fight, when Jughead doesn’t even have it in him to keep his own head up, his sweaty, feverish forehead dropping onto Fangs’ collarbone gracelessly. Free hand grabbing a fist full of Fangs’ t-shirt at the shoulder and twisting until the fabric strains dangerously. When Sweet Pea pulls out his fingers, Jughead sags against Fangs, tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding draining from his muscles and he’s so hard again his dick throbs almost painfully where it’s trapped between his own naked belly and Fangs’ clothed one. That same stifling heat from before building up relentlessly.

Jughead just barely catches the sound of rustling cloth, the way Sweet Pea pulls his arm from Jughead’s grip much too easily until Jughead’s hand drops to the grass, fingers digging little grooves into the rich soil underneath. Until Fangs goes still beneath him, hips no longer thrusting, and Sweet Pea drapes himself along Jughead’s back, big and wide and so very solid and when the tip of Sweet Pea’s dick nudges at his abused rim, Jughead feels that fluttery panic from before return with a vengeance.

He wants to say something, do something to stop this, because it’s not going to be work, his body won’t be able to take it, but it’s like the words just get stuck in his throat, his tongue too heavy to articulate them and his limbs won’t move the way he needs them to. There’s only that all-consuming heat in his belly and the awful pressure at his backside that keeps building with each of Fangs’ renewed, shallow thrusts. And then, despite everything, the head of Sweet Pea’s dick pops in alongside Fangs’ and the breath gets punched from Jughead’s lungs in a high, keening sound, his whole body going taut as a steel wire.

Both Fangs and Sweet Pea grunt at the same time and one of the hands Sweet Pea has clutching at Jughead’s hips to hold him still comes up and cards through the damp and tangled strands of Jughead’s hair. His voice sounds strained as he speaks, his lips brushing against the shell of Jughead’s ear, his words almost lost over the staticy rush of blood. “Fuck, you need to relax.”

Teeth clenched hard enough to make them ache and eyes filling up with tears, Jughead would fucking punch Sweet Pea in the face, if he were able to muster the coordination needed, but he can’t and he just buries his face against Fangs’ shoulder harder, trying to stifle the sob that bubbles up. For some reason, though, his body seems to respond to Sweet Pea’s words, muscles loosening where it counts and Sweet Pea slips in deeper still. Keeps going, until he’s as far in as he can get like this and then starts to thrust in a jerky counter rhythm to the small movements of Fangs’ hips.

Jughead can feel the both of them inside of him, sliding against each other in the impossibly tight space, lighting Jughead’s inner walls up with too much sensation, a fullness, an ache he doesn’t know how to handle and they both sound wrecked as they moan and gasp. Lost in how good it is for them and Jughead can see Sweet Pea lean down to find Fangs’ mouth, kissing him hotly, tongues tangling sloppily as they both fuck into Jughead together. The heat and the pressure keep rising and Jughead can feel another orgasm coming, ready to scorch him and leave him hollow and burnt out and he’s terrified of it, but there’s no way for him to stop it.

Both Fangs’ and Sweet Pea’s thrusts begin to grow erratic, losing their rhythm and then, at the same time, their hips still with them buried so fucking deep Jughead can feel it in the desperately clutching tips of his fingers, and they come. Liquid heat flooding Jughead in wet spurts and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge, as well, and there’s that same pulse as before only so, so much stronger this time, pure energy rushing outward, the pleasure so intense it consumes him and then there’s just nothing.

~*~*~

Jughead comes to lying naked in the tall grass, Sweet Pea and Fangs breathing hard as they come down from their orgasms on either side of him. The world feels fuzzy and strange, like someone wrapped him in cotton and now he’s just sort of floating. There’s jizz on his stomach and the insides of his thighs feel slick and sticky and he wrinkles his nose and groans, too tired to move an inch despite the discomfort. He’s pretty sure he’s going to kill somebody, once he regains the capacity to move.

It almost gives him a heart attack, when Toni’s and Cheryl’s faces slide into his field of vision, plotting out part of the slowly darkening sky. “Well, that sounded like it was intense.” Cheryl chirps happily as she eyes the three of them, one perfectly shaped brow arched upwards, while Toni looks decidedly more worried.

“Mpf, fuck.” Sweet Pea grunts as he heaves himself into a sitting position. “’Intense’ is one way of putting it...”

Fangs, who’s still lying next to Jughead gives an incredulous, slightly manic laugh at that and washes a hand over his flushed face. The look Cheryl gives them loses some of its amusement, though her eyes still glint with mischievousness as she speaks. “As much as I hate to break up the party, lads,” She says and straightens up a bit, hands on her hips, “we should probably haul our shapely behinds out of here. That was a lot of energy you just set loose and there’s really no telling what that might have fed into. Better not to stick around and get caught with your dicks hanging out. So to speak.”

Both Fangs and Sweet Pea swear under their breaths and hurry to tuck themselves away and re-fasten their pants. Jughead has something scathing on the tip of his tongue, but it gets lost, when Cheryl bends down and picks up his boxer in a careful, two-fingered grip and tosses it at him, making them land directly across his face. Jughead grumbles something petty and rude and then sucks in a hitching breath, when he moves to put them on, a sharp, throbbing ache shooting up his backside from the base of his spine and a wave of dizziness making his head spin dangerously.

Fangs face appears in Jughead’s field of vision, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a grimace. “Shit, dude. Are you OK?”

“ _Fucking peachy_. What do you think?” Jughead hisses up at him, his hands reaching so that he can dig his fingers into his temples to stave off the throbbing headache. The ground underneath them trembles slightly. Once, then again.

“Did you feel that?” Toni says, sounding alarmed.

“Come on, people, _hurry_.” Cheryl’s voice chimes in and, cursing again, Sweet Pea grabs Jughead’s boxers and starts to wrestle them up Jughead’s legs. More than a little unsettled, Jughead clenches his teeth against the hurt and the soreness, against the shivery weakness in his limbs and tries to help as best he can, when Fangs struggles to get Jughead’s shirt back onto him. The three of them together get Jughead dressed in record speed, even if Jughead has more than a little trouble keeping up and his most useful contribution to Fangs’ and Sweet Pea’s efforts ends up being simply doing his best to not get into their way. Snatching his beanie up from where it’d previously fallen to the grass, Jughead pulls it over his head hastily and then lets Fangs and Sweet Pea pull him to his feet.

The world goes blurry before his eyes and Jughead grabs onto Sweet Pea’s arm tightly, swaying precariously, another set of colorful curses on his lips. “I don’t think this is going to work, man.” Jughead can faintly hear Fangs say and then Sweet Pea mumbles “Shit, help me for a second”.

Next thing he knows, Jughead is sagging against Fangs while Sweet Pea crouches down a little in front of him and then Fangs is guiding Jughead forward until Sweet Pea can heft him up onto his back, hands wedged firmly beneath Jughead’s thighs. Jughead makes a displeased sound at being jostled like that, another zing of hurt shooting sharply up his spine and he wraps his arms around Sweet Pea’s shoulders to not lose his balance and fall off. Fucking great. As if this whole thing isn’t demeaning enough already. At least it finally gets them moving.

“I’m going to kill both of you, I hope you know that.” Jughead mutters, but it sounds weak, even to his own ears.

Sweet Pea just huffs out a breath as he lugs Jughead down the path like he weighs nothing, not bothered at all by the additional burden. “Sure.” Sweet Pea shoots back, entirely too unconcerned for Jughead’s liking. “Just maybe wait until we’re back home or something.”

“I hate you.” Jughead says miserably and buries his face against the back of Sweet Pea’s neck. Fangs’ hand comes up to pat Jughead’s back lightly and Jughead doesn’t even try to hold back the growl that rises up at the gesture.

“ _Boys_...” Cheryl’s exasperated voice drifts over to him, the sarcastic lit obvious and Jughead can practically _hear_ the accompanying eye-roll. Too bad he really doesn’t give a fuck right now.

The rest of the track back to their bikes is made in relative silence, the urgency to get away from that strange place driving them onward and keeping anything much else off of their minds. It’s really not as hard, as it should have been to find the way back, either, and it makes Jughead wonder how the Hell they’d seemed so lost before. Nothing about this fucking thing makes _any_ sense.

The only thing he knows for sure, is that he’ll probably die of absolute mortification, once he’s got his full wits about him again. Or maybe he’ll just pack a bag and hit the road and never, ever look back, just like he and Archie did together that one time. On the other hand, the way _that_ had ended, maybe he should reconsider his plans just a little. And so what, if he’s being fucking dramatic? Jughead feels like he very much has the right to be after what just fucking happened to him, thanks.

Fuck this whole thing anyway, Jughead is just going to make everyone swear on their leathers to never, ever talk about it again. When he gets home he’s going to sleep for a week and when he wakes up, he’ll just pretend that nothing happened and life will go on as usual. With all of the fucking weirdness that’s part of the daily agenda in Riverdale, this will probably just fade into nothing more than a stupid blip on their internal radars, if they give it a week or two. It’s only a matter of time before something else equally or even more outrageous plops up in that Hellhole of a town of theirs to keep them otherwise occupied, anyway.

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> If you liked this, you would absolutely make an author's day/week/month, by leaving a little kudos or even a comment, if you feel like it. I hope you're all doing well! <3


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